


What You Didn't Know You Wanted

by banana-babies (Manyaraz)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7474248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manyaraz/pseuds/banana-babies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was content. And then Nishinoya graduated and wanted to move in with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Didn't Know You Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of things to say about Haikyuu!! and about the characters that make it up, so much so that I've stopped and started several times just trying to write this author's note. What I can say is that these words were written with pure love, for the show, for the characters that make it up, and for you who are about to read it. 
> 
> I really do hope you enjoy.

Asahi never went to university. He didn’t have the heart for entrance exams nor any ambition to work in an office. The simple life was fine for him. He got a job at a local factory, his parents helped him get an apartment of his own, he played volleyball with the adult group (even though he was still pretty much a kid in their eyes). All in all everything went well. He was content. 

And then Nishinoya graduated and wanted to move in with him.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun. I’m not going to university either.”

Nishinoya grins over his ramen at Asahi. They’re the only two sitting in the little stand. Nishinoya’s legs dangle off the bench while Asahi’s feet rest firmly on the ground. Asahi swirls the steaming bowl with his chopsticks, waiting for it to cool down. 

“I don’t know. My apartment isn’t very big.” 

“I don’t take up much space,” he retorts before dipping his head and slurping noisily at his noodles. 

Asahi chuckles awkwardly.  _ You are still pretty small,  _ he thinks, unsure if he’s allowed to say that out loud. Nishinoya never did break 165 cm. 

“Look,” Nishinoya starts with his mouth full. Stops to swallow and starts again. “Look-”

“Yeah?”

“I got hired at the grocery down the street. It’s part time, but I can still split rent with you while I look for something else.”

Asahi hmm’s, he still hasn’t touched his food. 

“Jeez Asahi, you look like I’m talking about setting your apartment on fire or something. I just want to move out--but my parents won't sign a lease for me like yours did--at least not until I hit twenty. They’d be cool if I moved with you though, my mom loooves you ever since you started bringing us pears in the spring.”

“Oh, um…”  _ My family’s tree just grows too many for us to eat now. _

“And what’s the point of working if I can’t even get a little space from my parents?” He seems to realize how heartless that makes him sound a second too late and hurries to follow up. “I mean, of course I love them, it’s just-  It’s not like I care about buying  _ stuff _ , anyway.”

“Yuu,” Asahi says gravely.

Nishinoya perks up at his given name. “Eh?”

Asahi takes a deep breath. “I’m just…”

_ “Eh?” _

Asahi turns to fully look at him voice noticeably wobbly. “I’m just worried because they always say not to be roommates with your friends because you’ll grow to hate each other!”

Nishinoya blinks dumbly. 

“So I’m not sure if we should-”

_ “Azumane!”  _ Nishinoya rocks back and gets his feet under him, standing up on the bench and slamming his hands down on the counter. “I will personally throw myself out the window if I ever start to hate you.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence from Asahi, between them, as Nishinoya glares at him with all his might. Then the shop owner bangs his ladle to get their attention. “If you don’t settle down you can leave!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Nishinoya sits back down, flustered. 

Asahi laughs and finally starts to eat. Nishinoya notices and beams. “So, yes then?”

He chokes. “I never said that.”

“Maybe?”

“...Maybe.”

“ _ Maybe- _ I got a maybe!”

“What did I say about settling down?”

“Sorry!”

~ * ~

Asahi starts to notice how lonely he is. He likes having his own space, it’s both a comfort and a source of pride. However, there’s the dull ache of not having a girlfriend, of not having anyone to eat with at dinner, of laughing at something on television and having the sound bounce with no one else to join in. Asahi stares up at the ceiling, sheets half-off and one sock on and that’s it. The fan whirs in the dead space, cooling Asahi’s sweat-soaked skin. It’s hot. 

_ It’s only natural that the novelty of being on my own would wear off,  _ Asahi muses. It’s been a year now, barely feels like it. 

_ I guess this is why guys start families. This feeling.  _ He lifts his hand in front of his face, spreading out his fingers. The moonlight filtering through the windows is enough for him to see the roughness of them.  _ But I don’t want kids.  _

The image of Nishinoya springs unbidden in his mind, grinning.  _ Let me move in with you!  _ he says.

Asahi groans and goes to sleep. 

~ * ~

“So have you decided yet?” Nishinoya slurps at his popsicle, sugar water dripping down the stick and running over his knuckles. It’s hot. 

Asahi rolls his shoulders, empty-handed. He doesn’t like sweet things. “It’s only been a week.”

“Yeah? That’s so long, dude. I’m dying over here.”

A cool breeze wafts down the street, tousling Nishinoya’s hair and tugging at his loose-hanging tank top. He hums. Asahi pushes stray strands of hair behind his ear. “Why me?”

“Huh?” A chunk of popsicle crunches between his teeth. 

“Before you graduated we never really hung out outside of volleyball. You and Tanaka are so much closer. Why don’t you move out with him?” Asahi’s tone is soft, hands slipping into the pockets of his shorts. 

Nishinoya gurgles something with his mouth full before swallowing and starting again. “Are you kidding me? Tanaka is the biggest mama’s boy there ever was. He’ll never move out.” He licks his sticky fingers and tosses the popsicle stick in a trashcan as they pass by. “What kinda question is that anyway?”

He stops suddenly and Asahi nearly trips over himself. “Nishinoya-?”

He looks at him dead-on, brows drawn down, eyes blank. “Are you trying to pull that insecure shit on me?”

“I- Sorry.”

“I’m not going to hold your hand through this Asahi,” he says. “You’re going to have to face it.”

Asahi waits for him to finish, but Nishinoya already did and he’s vibrating with impatience.

“Face what?”

“That I want to live with you!”

Asahi’s eyes scrunch up.

“With  _ you,”  _ Nishinoya repeats for emphasis. 

“Yuu…”

~ * ~

It doesn’t happen in another week, or even another month. Asahi may have a weak heart, but he doesn’t have a weak will. He refuses to be pressured into haste by Nishinoya. Something this drastic deserves a lot of thinking over, a lot of  _ worrying.  _ As much as Nishinoya protests--if they were a bad fit as roommates--it wouldn’t be as easy as kicking him out. Friendships end over that sort of thing all the time.

But they do hang out a lot. Asahi drops by for dinner with Nishinoya and his family more and more often, arms heavy with fruit to share. Nishinoya’s mom is definitely in love with him and it’s kind of awkward and kind of charming at once. Asahi doesn’t have the heart to discourage her. They go to the gym together when their schedules line up. Both of them make sure to be free Sunday evening; volleyball night with the adult group. Asahi gets into poetry. Nishinoya starts playing pick-up games of basketball and Asahi teases him about how he’s picked the two sports where height matters the most. Nishinoya gels his hair higher. 

Their lives go on.

Asahi worries and refuses to make a decision one way or another. Thankfully, he never has to. 

Nishinoya’s over so much he starts leaving spare clothes in Asahi’s drawers. They’re tiny things that Asahi sometimes picks out by accident on groggy mornings, holding a shirt or a pair of shorts in front of him uncomprehendingly. He marvels at how--if he spreads out his fingers--he can cover the whole chest of Nishinoya’s shirts. 

Next, he forgets a toothbrush and just never bothers to take it back. Asahi starts finding sports magazines wedged between Fujiwara Akiko and  Shuntarō Tanikawa on his bookshelf. Nishinoya learns how to cook and insists on trying out recipes at Asahi’s place because he doesn’t want his dad to know he’s doing something so  _ girly.  _ His cookbooks become a permanent fixture on the counter. Eating alone becomes a novelty once again. 

It’s when Asahi wakes up on a Saturday morning with a throbbing ache resting on his forehead and a snoring Nishinoya resting on his chest--last night’s sake bottle drooling it’s last few drops on his carpet--that Asahi realizes. 

“Nishinoya,” Asahi groans. He flops his hand on the other’s back. “Guess what?”

Nishinoya’s snores stutter to a halt and he shifts, mumbling into Asahi’s chest. Asahi pats him harder on the back. “Wake up. This is important.”

“What?” Nishinoya huffs, sounding everything the surly teenager. 

“You owe me rent.”

“Mnn?”

“Somehow,” Asahi slurs, voice still thick with sleep. “Somehow, you managed to move in without me even noticing.”

Silence.

“So you owe me rent.”

Nishinoya’s eyes are bright when he looks up. They’re clear and unclouded, and not at all the expression of someone half Asahi’s size who drank twice as much as him last night. His hair sticks to his forehead from sweat and the rest is wildly tangled. Asahi knows his own hair can’t be much better, half of it out of his bun and in his face, choking up his mouth. 

“That’s a yes.” He says it like a prayer, little fingers curling in the fabric of Asahi’s rumpled shirt. 

“Kinda.”

“That’s a yes!” Nishinoya crows, leaping off his chest with glee. Asahi lets out an ‘oof’, suddenly, worryingly, nauseous. His head pounds.

Nishinoya sticks his hands in the air and laughs. His voice is like rolling thunder and Asahi’s already been hit by the lightning. “I’m going to move out! I’m going to be an adult!”

Asahi groans and turns over, rubbing at the drool crusting the corner of his mouth. “Shhh. The neighbors. My head.”

Nishinoya shuts up and Asahi closes his eyes, wondering if he can eke out an hour or two more of sleep before what just happened sinks in. However, he feels hot breath on his face and a hand curling around his forearm. He peeks through his eyelashes and Nishinoya is there, staring.

“Asahi,” he whispers, words so close Asahi can feel the shape of them in the air. “I’m moving in with you.” 

“Y-yeah.”

And then Nishinoya giggles like a child and bounces back to his feet and the sunlight dances through Asahi’s thin curtains and Asahi dozes off, warm and aching.  

~ * ~

The apartment doesn’t need too much rearranging, the biggest thing Nishinoya brings is his futon. Other than that his clothes take up a single drawer in the closet, tiny t-shirts and well worn shorts. He only owns three pairs of pants. Asahi finds that he can barely fit his arm in one leg of them. 

To lay out two futons at night they have to push the table up against the small couch and the wall, leaving barely enough space to put them side by side in front of the TV. Asahi grumbles to himself as he drags things around, trying to find a different way to arrange them with no luck. Even with the couch moved to the other side, the desk got in the way of lying one down in the little pocket of space there. Nishinoya watches with a quizzical look over one of his magazines, curled up on said couch. His bare feet cross over one another, magazine propped up on his knees, shorts riding up and bunching at his thighs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just trying to figure this out.”

Nishinoya frowns. “But the first thing you did was fine.”

“Yeah, but.” Asahi sighs, wiping the sweat off his brow. “They were right next to each other.”

“So?” Nishinoya sinks back further into the couch, eyes back on the pages in front of him. “You’re so big you’re always half-sprawled off your futon. Now you can use the edge of mine.”

Asahi tilts his head, rubbing his neck. “Isn’t that kind of weird? It’s like sharing one bed.”

Nishinoya doesn’t chide him, doesn’t back down, doesn’t say ‘well if you don’t want to-’. Instead, he shrugs. “I like it.”

Asahi splutters and Nishinoya laughs. “You baby. You’re blushing.”

Asahi hunches his back, shrinking himself with a mortified look on his face. “B-baby, huh? Well could a baby do this?” 

He leans on the arm of the couch and shoves it back to where it originally was with Nishinoya still on it. Nishinoya squawks, grabbing onto the other arm for support and half falling over anyway. “Hey!”

Asahi laughs and turns on the TV, settling down next to Nishinoya on the couch. Nishinoya jams him with his foot in revenge but Asahi plays the saint and just looks at him with raised eyebrows. Grumbling, Nishinoya goes back to his magazine, but when Asahi chuckles at a joke--back hunching forward and elbows on his thighs--Nishinoya looks up too and grins. 

~ * ~

When the weather gets colder sleeping arrangements become an issue again. Instead of the occasional leg-brush, or an arm carelessly flung over his chest, or a foot  jammed in his armpit, Asahi wakes up to something on a whole different level. 

The wind rattles against the windowpanes and--despite the chill--hot air tickles his neck. There’s a leg slung over his midsection, an arm wedged under his and curled up to his shoulder, and Nishinoya’s lips are definitely brushing where his hair’s fallen away to expose his neck. There’s no light to the darkness; it must be the dead of the night. 

Maybe it’s because he’s only half-awake, maybe it’s because he’s seen Nishinoya and Tanaka fall asleep on each other countless times, maybe it’s because he’s been so lonely, Asahi doesn’t have it in him to worry right then.

He’s never been the little spoon before, it’s kinda nice. 

~ * ~

“Do you get cold at night?”

“Not really, no. Why’d you ask?”

“Er well...I thought maybe, because you keep, uh--”

“Yeaaaah?”

“You keep cuddling up to me at night.”

“Oh. That’s just because I want to.”

“O-Oh.” 

“It used to be too hot, but now it works out just fine.”

~ * ~

Asahi stares at Nishinoya’s form in the dark, eyes long having adjusted. The man sleeping next to him is so small and so strong, so quick and so steady. He’s wound up energy, static electricity between his bedsheets. How did someone so different from him end up so close?

Asahi reaches out a hand to touch him. 

Nishinoya lays still, hair mussed up on the pillow, lips parted. 

Asahi’s newly-calloused fingers find Nishinoya’s arm--and he almost expects a shock--they run lightly over the bumps of his muscles, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt. Before he loses his courage he touches Nishinoya’s neck, it’s soft. Nishinoya still doesn’t stir.

Asahi cups his cheek, fingers curling through his hair and thumb brushing under his eye. He thinks about kissing him. 

No, that's too much. 

Instead, he drags him into a hug, pulls him close in one brave movement. Nishinoya fits so easy in his arms, against his chest, toes brushing his knees and no lower. He mumbles and Asahi’s breath catches in his throat, whole body tensing. But Nishinoya’s eyes stay closed and he nuzzles his head into Asahi’s chest with another unconscious noise before going lax again. Asahi breathes out a sigh and blinks away the water in his eyes, resting his chin on Nishinoya’s head, heart filled to bursting with the tenderness of it all. 

“Thank you.”

Long after Asahi drifts into the twilight of dreams a rough “You’re welcome” and a chapped-lip kiss find their way onto Asahi’s neck. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I imagine Asahi's apartment would look like: http://i.imgur.com/8gAqB.jpg
> 
> Also, I really wanted to write a realistic view of life-after-volleyball, and how two people who only knew each other through that medium could Be together in an easy and natural way. I hope I achieved that vision.


End file.
